


One Winged Icarus

by KlixAndSpaesis



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Fluff, Gen, Gore, Multi, Mutation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Screaming, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3492542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlixAndSpaesis/pseuds/KlixAndSpaesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>41225 wasn’t supposed to have a life outside the walls. He supposed he never did, but with the nightmares haunting his dreams every night tells him otherwise. Its always the same, a man with golden eyes being restrained and shouting his name, a name 41225 wasn’t supposed to have. It was Dave.<br/>Dirk always thought he’d left that life behind him, he thought he’d escaped for good, it had all been set, his death, the scene, but it all goes down the drain when he sees the boy with the orange-gold wings. It all goes down the drain when he sees the boy’s wing get cut off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Winged Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Dip here posting the first chapter for One Winged Icarus. This chapter was hella dope to write, and I enjoyed writing it and I hope you guys will enjoy reading it! About the fluff...you gotta take the god damn fluff and make it into a pillow and hug it tight because you need the fluff. All of it.
> 
> GLUB!

The wings and the feathers started to grow when Dave was around six, he suddenly collapsed on the kitchen floor in dead faint, twitching.

It was early morning, a Saturday, and Dave was running around and screeching with the energy of all six year olds, hopping around the room and jumping on and off the couch, “Bro, Bro Bro, Bo! C’mon! C’mon, C’mon! Wake up!” He lazily waved his hand to brush Dave off from where he was riding his back and jumping up and down, “Go ‘way, lemme sleep ye lil shit.” Dave dodged his hand and vaulted off his back, landing on the floor with a graceless tumble, falling on his little rump with a shriek. Bro peeked open his eye and looked at Dave who was sitting on the floor, stunned, but soon he was up again and running to the kitchen chanting, “Bro, Bro, Bro, Bro! Breakfast! Bro! Breakfast!” He groaned and rose from the couch, rubbing his head, “Fiiiinne,” he growled, getting to his feet as Dave dashed by his feet again, arms raised above his head going “Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! Waaaake uuup!” Bro grabbed him by his hands and scooped him into the air with a laugh, Dave giving a shriek as he found his feet were no longer on the ground and he was suddenly being crushed against his brother’s chest in a bear hug. “How’s breakfast sound?” Dave gave a resolute nod and hopped from his arms and dutifully ran to the kitchen to grab his bowl. Bro ambled after him, trying to get the sleep out of his brain and he stepped into the kitchen. He was there just in time to see Dave’s eye’s roll into his head and collapse on the floor, convulsing in pain. His little plastic bowl clattered to the floor and he was curling into himself, sobbing piteously. “Dave!”

“It’s quite alright, he’s probably got a bad case of the summer cold, and he should be alright in a couple of weeks, just give him plenty of water and keep him warm at night.” The doctor quickly wrote down a prescription for Dave, who was lying in a bed, sweating and moaning in his sleep, turning over and trying to kick off the blankets. Bro forced himself to calm down, “Why did he collapse like that?” The doctor looked at him with a steady gaze, “It’s quite alright Mr. Strider, that was probably due to a stroke, and your brother is perfectly fine. There’s nothing to worry about.” His voice was very reassuring. Bro wasn’t reassured. He forced himself to be calm again. “Thank you doctor.” He took Dave home later that evening, now knocked out due to some medicine the doctor gave him, but he was still in a terrible state, sweating and turning over in the backseat, as if fighting an invisible enemy. Bro lay him down on his bed and covered him with his blanket, there was something in his gut that was telling him that something wasn’t right. It was just a sense of unease that churned up the contents in his stomach. It wasn’t just a summer cold.

Bro sat down next to the bed and stroked Dave’s sweaty hair, hopefully, just hopefully, this was a summer cold. Bro’s eye’s snapped open. Fuck! When did he fall asleep? He glanced about and found Dave sleeping next to him, in more pain than before, he was crying now, panting and twisting in his spot. “Bo!”

“Oh shit, Dave, Dave, its okay, shhh, shh. It’s okay.” He pet his hair and rubbed the little six year old’s stomach, “Shhh, shhh, its okay.” Dave cried harder and clutched Bro’s wrist, opening his red eyes wide as tears leaked down his cheeks, “It hurts all over!” Dave turned over on his side and sobbed, unable to tell him how much it hurt, the pain, it was blinding, and it burned his skin. Bro was getting panicked himself, Dave was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. He rubbed Dave’s back and then he paused, feeling two bumps at the base of Dave’s spine which he knew weren’t there before. He lifted his shirt slightly and saw two visible lumps there, growing and bulging, and moving about outlandishly. He touched them and Dave screeched in pain. “No, no no no, no! No! It hurts there! Don’t touch it!”

“Dave, Dave, calm down, I need you to sit up…please?” Dave writhed in his hands, crying and screaming, but he maneuvered him into a sitting position while he rubbed his back comfortingly, “Dave, shhh, it’s okay, I’m going to give you some water okay? Can you drink the water for me?” He grabbed the glass of water and tipped the edge to Dave’s mouth, who was sobbing quietly now, and he touched it to his lips, “C’mon Dave, drink. For me.” Dave gulped and sipped the water, but coughed and doubled over, the water spilling out of Bro’s hands. The glass fell to the floor with a shatter, and water stained the bed sheets. Dave cried out and screamed, pounding his little fists against his legs, crying. “Dave,” Bro was begging him now, tears pricking at his own eyes, “Please, you need to drink.”

“CAN’T!” Dave’s voice was strained and he was shouting. “CAN’T!” Bro wrung his hands in frustration, what was he supposed to do?! Dave had lumps growing on his back and his neck was getting fuzzy…wait, what? Dave was growing fucking feathers from his neck. Holy- no, do not finish that sentence. Okay. Calm. Freaking zen here. Chill. “Dave calm down, I need you to relax, just calm down. I’m going to rub your back, and I NEED you to drink this water okay?” He poured another glass of water and put it to the six year olds lips, it spilt at the corners of his mouth, but he was drinking it, and that’s what mattered. He rubbed Dave’s back again, smoothening out the cloth. Abruptly, Dave stopped crying, sniffling, he wiped his eyes, “Is the pain gone?” Bro asked, taking the cup from Dave’s little hands which were tightly clutching the glass. Dave nodded and let him take the cup. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Oh, thank God.” Bro sighed and hugged Dave to his chest tightly, “Thank God you’re alright.” The moon shone gently through the open window, the pale blue light shining on the two figures in the bedroom. Bro rubbed Dave’s back, in a comforting manner, but it was more of a comfort to himself, he had been more scared than Dave was back there, and he was still scared. What exactly was happening? The soft down was still clustered along Dave’s neck, and in the light he could see that they were a soft orange gold colour, and yep, they were growing directly from his neck. He tugged on one experimentally and Dave tensed, so he stopped and continued patting his back, the two lumps were still there, but at least they weren’t moving around crazily like before, softly, he let his fingers trace them, feeling hard lumps of bone there. It was the calm before the storm. Then Dave stiffened and let out the most inhuman scream Bro had ever heard him cry out before, it almost like a strangled bird and a human crying out at the same time, just warped together into a horrid screech of pain. Then wings ripped from behind his back in a burst of blood. Bro cringed and drew back, but Dave was clutching his shirt, and there was a tearing sound as his shirt was ripped through, holy Christ, Dave was growing claws. The boy was screaming and clawing at whatever he could reach, cloth, sheets, skin, anything within an arms distance away. HURTS HURTS HURTS, PAIN, MAKE IT STOP NO NO PAIN HURTS BURNING—

Dave collapsed in his arms, going still and silent, his…wings also went limp and for a terrible second, Bro thought the pain had killed him. “Dave?” Bro loosened his brother from his arms and looked at his face. Dave’s head lolled to one side- silent, unmoving. “Dave!” He shook him slightly- no response. “DAVE!”

“Auuuughhhhhh…” God, the sound wasn’t even human. Bro cracked his eyes open to bright sunlight creeping in through the open window. For a moment, he felt disorientated, the ceiling was different from the usual ceiling he woke up to- it was much cleaner, and he could see posters lining the wall. He raised himself to a sitting position and looked around, it was Dave’s room. There was blood all over the room and an excess of bloodied bandages soaking in a basin next to him. It all came back to him in an instant. Dave. Changing. Growing feathers. Growing fucking wings from his back. Suddenly he was wide awake. Just a couple hours ago he was rescuing his little brother from the brink of death; staunching the blood pouring from his back where the wings had torn through the skin into the outside world , cleaning the blood from the golden feathers protruding from the new muscle and bone, everything that had to do with blood, blood, and more blood. More blood than he’d ever remembered seeing pouring from the human body. Dave. Where was Dave. The little six year old was gone. Shit.

He flash stepped out of the room so fast he nearly collided with the door frame in his haste to get out of the room, Dave’s name already raising in his throat in a shout, but it caught in his throat when he found Dave in the kitchen, sitting down and helping himself to cereal, the wings which were heavily bandaged lay tucked against his little body tightly, and his feathery, bird feet were kicking excitedly under the table. He must’ve made some sort of strangled noise at the back of his throat, because Dave turned inquisitively, dropping the spoon into his bowl. “Bro!” He said, running, goofy-footed, towards him. The wings half spread out, fluttering uncertainly, as if trying to figure out walking and flying differences. He fell to his knees and caught the charging boy into a tight embrace, burying his face into a fuzzy neck, breathing in the smell of animal and the sweet scent of milk. “Dave, thank God you’re alright.” He murmured into the fine, soft down which were tickling his nose, and Dave hugged him back just as tightly, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly into his shoulder, trembling, “I’m sorry I scared you.” Bro laughed and held the boy away from him, looking at his red eyes which were almost glowing now, even in the brightness of the room. “You? Scared me? Not in a million years squirt.” Just…a bit shaken. Dave seemed to brighten up at that and started to smile, quickly giving him another embrace that was a lot stronger than he used to hug him.

* * *

Things were fine after that, Bro gradually got used to seeing a bushel of orange feathers bundling out of Dave's room every morning and having to sweep the floor constantly from shed down. Dave was growing fast. Every day, his wings were growing fuller, larger, and more feathery. He was practically growing new sets of feathers every day. The week before, Dave had fully matured his set of claws on his feet and hands, and sometimes he would see Dave settling down into pillows and blankets, trying to make himself comfortable with his large wings. At least he wasn't acting birdy, he could still talk and do normal things. The only things that changed were that Dave didn't have feet anymore, they were talons that left little scratches and knicks on the floor and wall and feathers growing in all sorts of places, along his wrists and the backs of his hands, on his neck was a scarf of fluffy down that stretched down to his chest and stopped at his naval, and in his hair wee a few sparse clutches of feathers growing in between the strands of hair. Other than that, Dave was completely normal.

Of course, Bro was in charge of preening and combing his little brothers feathers every day, it was necessary for a birds feathers to be in top notch condition, otherwise they were risking molting and skin diseases. "Hey Dave," He said, blow-drying Dave's hair, loosening the stray feathers here and there with his fingers and the smaller boy leaned into his touch, "How are you feeling now? Better?" The six year old nodded, flexing his back, making his wings rustle, fingers, and wiggling his toes. "Mmhmm! I’m much better now. I don't feel sore anymore." Bro hummed and nodded his head, moving the hair dryer to Dave's neck, blowing the hot air in between the damp feathers. His little brother seemed content to just sit on the little stool and be pampered. He smiled to himself and ruffled Dave's hair, just for the heck of it, and laughed when Dave giggled, his damp wings twitching with small vibrations. "C'mon, stretch your wings out for me kiddo, I'm not picking them up this time." Dave shook out his wings and bro let his breath be taken away all over again, it never failed to amaze him, and it took him every morning when he woke up to remind himself that Dave had wings sprouting from his back. It was almost surreal now, thinking back on the day the wings had exploded from Dave's back, just above his little hips. Last week, they'd been at least three feet across, now they were at least six to seven feet across with large golden feathers at the edges. He'd gotten a lot lighter since then too, but he still had a monstrous appetite when it came to lunch and dinner. He moved to the other wing lifting it up the extra inch anyways and letting the wind pass through the feathers gently.

"So, whaddya want for dinner t'night?" Dave leaned on his knees, exposing his back to him, and rocked slightly, humming thoughtfully. "Dunno...Pizza maybe?"

"Ye?"

"Yea."

"How many d'you want?" He asked playfully, changing sides so he could see Dave's face, "You're prolly gonna finish the first pizza by yourself." Dave chuckled and nodded, grinning, "Two then! I can have one and you can get the other!"

"I dunno lil man, if we finish a pizza each then I don't know if we can eat ice cream later..." He let the sentence trail off and held back the grin when Dave's head shot up in surprise, squealing, "Ice cream! Ice cream!" He let the laugh escape him and ruffled Dave's hair again. "'Ts okay, I was gonna get that ice cream anyways." His brother grinned and hugged him around the neck, burying bros face into orange plumage, "Thanks Bro!"

Bro went out that evening, waving Dave goodbye as he fixed his hat on his head. Dave ignred him, choosing to bury his face into the pillow and pout a little, kicking his tiny bird feet on the couch in a tantrum-like manner. Of course the kid had wanted to come. Of course the kid hadn’t realized he was half-bird. Bro knew that Dave understood that, but that didn’t stop the kid from insisting that he wanted to go out, not understanding the dangers. To him, Bro had accepted his change with little shock and fuss, so that meant everyone else would, right? So Bro had explained it the best he could, “Look, Davey,” he sat down at the edge of the couch for the umpteenth time since that morning, and Dave stuffed himself deeper into the couch, whining a little, “c’mon kiddo, look at me.” He refused. Stubborn little brat. But he continued, knowing Dave was listening. “Dave, people out there, they aren’t as nice and as accepting as I am. When they see a bird, especially as big and beautiful as you kiddo, they’re gonna want to put you in a cage.” He let the word sink in as he scooted closer, massaging Dave’s calf lightly, feeling the feather light bones underneath the scaley skin. Dave whimpered, finally turning from the pillow, tears streaking down his cheeks. Bro continued, nw rustling Dave’s downy hair, “If they put you in a cage, what am I gonna do? They ain’t gonna let me get to you, and they might do strange things to you, and I won’t be able to stop them cause I might not find you.”

“But you said Strider’s were strong.”

“We’re strong Dave, but aren’t invincible, and I don’t want to lose you.” He hugged his brother in his arms. Dave’s wings fluttered, “Aren’t I in a cage already then?” He was crying now, great big heaving sobs that wracked his little body. Bro’s breath caught in his throat. As much as he wanted to deny it, his little brother was right. He looked around the small apartment; it was small, cluttered with furniture and smuppets. The occasional window overlooking the city.

It was a cage.

He hugged Dave closer, rocking the two of them on the couch as Dave cried. There was nothing he could say.

= = >Teach the bird how to fly

The next morning was awoken to the sound of silent cursing and the sporadic screeches of furniture moving across the floor. A orange-blonde head peeked out from Dave’s bedroom and Bro looked at his little brother staring at the empty living room and at him, halfway pushing the couch down the hall. Dave’s eye’s traveled across the room, and how empty it was. He walked out of his room and inspected this and that while Bro decided it was okay to continue whatever he was doing-moving shit. Who knew that there was an insane amount of dust under the carpet? “It’s so big!” He heard Dave’s voice echo from the living room. There was the click of claws on the wood as Dave ran about, obviously, still exploring the new area. “Get some breakfast into yourself! I have a surprise for you!” he called, shoving the twenty ton couch ungracefully into the spare room, now filled with more junk than it had previously.

Last night he’d spent hours searching for the correct methods to teach a baby bird how to fly. Some suggested dropping it a couple of feet. A few recommended letting it into the wild. More than a couple advised letting the bird learn on its own, it was a natural instinct they said. They never said anything about bird boys. He walked back into the living room, hearing the clatter of a bowl being set up on the counter, now that there was no table.

Dave was eagerly tucking into honey loops, anxious to discover whatever this surprise was, and why it included clearing the living room. Bro ruffled Dave’s hair, then, pretending to spot something on the far corner of the wall, he gasped and pointed. And Dave, being the gullible little kid he was, turned, expecting to see something as Bro took a few quick scoops of cereal into his mouth. Dave turned back and gasped, obviously offended. “Bro!” He snorted into the spoonful of cereal, Dave’s face was priceless, full of shock and mock betrayal. The kid was getting good. He swallowed the nutritional goodness of whole wheat grain and honey quickly before any of it came out of his nose and laughed at Dave’s pouting face, scrunched up eyebrows and puffed out cheeks, arms crossed as if he meant business- god the kid was killing him with his adorableness. Bro dropped the spoon back in the bowl and raised his hands in fake surrender. He was dealing with a wild animal here, and he took a step back, slowly, slowly, as Dave bristled. Dave reached for the spoon, keeping his red eyes on him, they were practically glowing. Bro took another step back, hands still raised, never breaking eye contact, and his foot brushed against something soft and plush. Yes! He hooked his foot underneath the soft arm, Dave was cautiously lowering the spoon into his cereal, he knew something was up, and he was still watching him. Ha, ha, if only he knew what was coming. Bro waited until the exact moment Dave put the spoon into his little mouth. This was going to be hilarious. Bro’s face twisted into a devilish smirk and kicked upwards, bringing up his notoriously famous buddy, Cal, into the direction of Dave. Cal flew through the air, arms a tangled mess and mouth opened, gaping wide. Dave screamed bloody murder as he struggled to abscond and save his breakfast cereal at the same time.

After the morning incident was over and Bro was done laughing his ass off, he asked Dave to cover his eyes, and quietly lead him to the middle of the empty room. His little brother’s wings twitched, half from expectation and from uncertainty. Bro grinned and took a few steps back in front of Dave, telling him to keep his eyes closed. “Okay kiddo, you can open your eyes.” Dave opened his eyes, red eyes blinking in surprise. All he could see was Bro standing in the center of the room, arms spread and grinning. “Tadaa.” Bro said, looking around and feeling generally proud of himself. Dave’s face turned confused, looking around, a little more, trying to see what exactly was new about the room. Either he wasn’t seeing what Bro was seeing, or Bro had gone off the deep end.

Bro smiled some more, spreading his arms a little wider. “C’mon Davey, can’t you see it?” Dave frowned and shook his head looking around desperately. What was Bro talking about? He looked at Bro again, apparently having given up, “What?”

“The room’s empty, dummy.” He looked disappointed, but another smile broke out through it at Dave’s confusion. “Seriously kid, what were you expecting?” Dave’s feathers started fluffing up in frustration, claws curling and uncurling in the wooden floor. It was kind of weird, as well as slightly amusing to see his little brother start to grow twice in size. Wings shuddering, opening and closing, irritated. He came to the rescue, “Hey, Dave, calm down, you’re gonna be doing the miracle here.”

“Me?”

“That’s right. You got wings right?” Dave nodded, fluffing out his wings and spread out his wings slightly, shaking them into full size- now eight feet across and Dave himself was at least five feet tall already, it must be the bird genes. Bro smiled to himself and walked over, “I’m gonna teach you how to fly little bro.” Dave’s eyes widened and he looked around the room again, then at Bro, looking him in the eye to see if he meant it. Bro was completely serious.

“A’ight, I want you to spread your wings out and…” Bro paused, thinking about it for a while and gestured vaguely with his hands, “Yeah, well, flap. Basically.” Dave giggled, but spread out his wings obediently, flapping, testing at first, and his legs automatically bent at the knee’s like a bird. He seemed almost as surprised as Bro did, eyes widening slightly in shock, and his wings snapped shut and he stood up ramrod straight. He tested opening his wings all the way again, and his knees bent again. Dave stood up again, and his wings shut. Bro couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of his mouth and he chuckled at Dave’s plight. He pouted at first, but began to giggle; it was funny, in a hopeless kind of way. He couldn’t open his wings without bending slightly, like a sort of game character’s default movement. It was so weird, and legitimately comical, despite the situation.

“C’mon, let’s try again.” Bro said, hiding his smile behind his hand. Dave’s body shook with laughter as he opened his wings again, only to find his knees bending instantly upon the wing’s full stretch outwards, the feathers quivering with slight tremors of contained giggles. Bro was trembling, desperately trying to hold it in by squeezing his hand over his mouth, why did it have to be so fucking hard to not laugh? Dave’s orange-golden feathers shook and caught the light from the light bulbs hanging overhead, flashing the warm glow of home and his eyes were red chinks of radiance, beautifully shining like the sunset.

“You wanna stop?” Bro asked, patting Dave’s hair. His brother smiled and leaned into the comforting touch, but he shook his head. “I wanna keep trying!” Dave looked excited to at least try it out. “If you don’t wanna, just say you don’t wanna, okay?” Bro said gently, looking Dave in the eyes. He was met with a steady, unwavering gaze back and he felt his lips quirk up into a smile, Dave was so determined, even as a six year old, he was stubborn as hell. A part of Bro hoped that Dave would continue to be that way.

He stepped back to give Dave his space and Dave spread his wings again, crouching down and looking determined and unsure at the same time, he brought his wings down sharply, and a gust of wind rattled the cabinets and blew Bro’s hair back. And at the same time, Dave lifted a little off the ground in a little hop. Dave gasped a little and tried again, flapping his wings again, and this time he floated a little above the ground for a couple of seconds before dropping down, a look of pure joy was on the boy’s face. Bro felt himself crying. “I’m doing it!” Dave cried, trying again and was now hovering over the floor as he beat his wings down steadily, generating harsh billows of wind, shaking cabinets and sending stray pieces of paper flying into the air. Dave spread his arms out excitedly, trying to balance himself in the air, then he kind of tilted forwards and fell out of the air with a startled yelp. Bro was moving in an instant, crashing into Dave and wrapping the boy into his arms and burying his face into rich feathers. His little brother automatically wrapped his hands around Bro’s neck in return, wings moving to brake himself against the impact unconsciously. Fuck, Bro was crying. Pride, happiness, and a sense of loss. Dave was growing up so fast. He just stood there, embracing his little brother as though it were the end of the world and this was the last chance he’d ever get. “Love you Bro.” Dave murmured into his shoulder, nuzzling into the white t-shirt. Bro breathed in the musty smell of animal and artificial strawberries and milk, “Love you too Dave.”

***

It was a mistake. It was Bro’s mistake thinking he could keep Dave a secret forever. An orange, shimmering gold feather rolled down the street, it was fairly empty, with the pale blues of early morning being overrun with yellow light from the sun, peeking around the buildings. The wind picked up again and the feather tumbled a little further down the sidewalk. A pair of feet stopped in front of the feather and the figure stooped to pick it up, twirling it in-between slim fingers. A squinted grey iris studied the feather closely and a smirk formed over perfect teeth. The man held the feather up to the light, letting it catch the light and glimmer, like precious jewelry. The sun glanced off the man’s black spade shaped pin, and his impeccable suit, crisp white cuffs and collar, black dinner jacket over white shirt, and a black fedora perched on styled hair. “Hey guys,” He kept his eye on the feather as he called the rest of the team through his phone, “I found a pretty bird.”

* * *

“You’re shedding again?” Bro asked as he peeked into Dave’s room, leaning against the doorframe. His little brother squeaked in surprise, turning around and trying to stash the feathers under his blankets.

“Bro?! Uhh…hi Bro.”

“Yeah. Hi.” Bro said sarcastically, raising his hand in greeting, he was smirking. Dave blushed furiously, twiddling his little bird feet and trying to look anywhere but Bro’s eyes. “Ya don’t have to lie to me kid, who do you think cleans your bed every morning?” Dave looked down, ears turning a pale pink, “I’m just…trying to clean up after myself, because if I don’t you’ll probably hate me and…” Dave’s voice trailed off at the end, getting quieter and quieter, “…You’ll send me away ‘cause I’m a freak.” The last part was almost a whisper and two drops of water splashed onto the floor. Bro’s heart melted and he was immediately kneeling in front of Dave and petting his hair and wiping his eyes. “I will never send you away Dave,” he said softly, tilting Dave’s chin up to look him in the eye, “You’re my precious little brother and I will never think that of you.” Dave hiccuped, tiny fists joining Bro’s thumbs in wiping away the tears dribbling down his little cheeks.

“I’ll never let you go.” Bro whispered against Dave’s forehead in a kiss.

* * *

“You sure, Droog?” The man with the Spade pin asked again, smirking at his co worker as he leaned back in the chair, kicking it back so that it was balancing on two legs instead of four.

“Yes I’m sure for the last time, Slick.” The taller man, Droog, ran his hand through his hair in a manner of calm, but it was forced and his glowing white eyes narrowed in the dark. It was so easy to get him angry. Spades Slick smirked again, looking at the map on the table with the intricate red lines indicating trash pick-up routes, sites, and where the trash came from. Droog was always so specific when it came to this kind of thing, Slick would’ve probably just set the map on fire. The golden feather was pinned to the center of a circle covering a small cluster of buildings in the street Heat and Clockwork. “All we’ve got to do now is waiting.” Droog said, crossing his legs and whipping out a newspaper, preparing to read it, but Spade snarled, “Why not just ask around?”

“All that’s going to do is alert the ‘pretty little bird’ Slick, so we wait until trash goes out, then we have him.”

“Mine’s faster.”

“Mine’s better.”

The clock ticked. Slick whirled towards it and smashed it on the ground, “Why does this infuriating _thing_ keep coming back?” Droog wisely kept quiet and hide the small smile on his face, turning the page of the newspaper calmly and reading it in the pitch blackness of the room. The deep rumble from across the room cut short as another pair of white glowing eyes opened and closed, blinking in the darkness. “What’s going on?” Heart Boxcars looked around the room, from the map to Droog quietly sitting down and minding his own business to Slick who was glaring at the clock on the ground like it was the most grotesque thing in the world. Boxcars closed his eyes again and went back to sleep. He didn’t give a fuck. Spades Slick kicked the clock to the far corner of the room where it crashed against the wall with a satisfying thunk. “I’m going out.” He wrenched open the door, bathing the room in hot afternoon light, Droog didn’t look up from his newspaper, now visible black irises glued to the headlines, ‘MILK PRICES GOING OVER THE ROOF-ARE COWS EATING GOLD?’ Slick put on his hat and grabbed his Horse Hitcher, not even glancing back before slamming the door shut behind him, the feather shook and fell from the map, fluttering to the ground softly. Droog looked up from the newspaper, but his attention was caught by a small voice piping up, “Hey Droog!”

“Hey Deuce. You got what I asked you to get?”

“Yeah!” Clubs Deuce held up a small clock energetically before walking over to the wall and putting it up.

The second hand ticked.

Droog grinned.

The feather lay on the ground, forgotten.

* * *

“Stay inside and don’t open the door to anyone except me, got it?” Bro tugged on his hat, adjusted his shades and his jacket, turning back to look at Dave, who was watching him from the couch, and his little brother nodded furiously, already curling himself into a makeshift pillow fort, Bro called it a nest when he found Dave stashing his feathers into it and little blankets and towels, but Dave had stubbornly called it a pillow fort. So it was a pillow fort. Full stop. He stayed in a little longer just to see Dave dive into his pillow fort nest and poke his head out, waving a small goodbye with his little claws. Bro waved back, exiting the door, but looking back long enough to see Dave’s head duck inside the fort. He smiled to himself as he locked the door, Dave was so adorable sometimes. Well, he turned away from the door and walked down the hallway at a half jog, time to grab groceries and shit. He hardly notice the pale tip of a feather hanging out the back of his hat as he took the stairs down, the clank of his feet on the metal staircase sounding loud in the muffled, dead air of the morning.

The supermarket was fairly empty, Bro liked it that way, not too many people walking about, lingering in the isles, all in all, just making the place stuffy. He didn’t like to mention it, but being around in crowds made Bro feel uncomfortable, on a stage or a podium, he was fine, but being in the middle of all that chaos, it made his head spin thinking about it. And certainly not in the good way.

He veered into the dry goods section, walking past whatever he didn’t need and tossed in the cereal that Dave loved, it was some sugary concoction of hell, he was never sure how Dave managed to eat it every morning and not get cavities, it was a miracle that Bro appreciated, no having to walk in the dentists and raise a few eyebrows. As an afterthought, he grabbed himself the honey loops, it never hurt to eat it every once in a while. Walking through the aisles brought wholegrain bread into basket. Whatever Dave’s transformation had caused to his digestion system, Bro didn’t want to know, but it was better to be safe than sorry, all he could do was make sure Dave had a proper diet, lots of grains, vegetables and fruits, protein and dairy products. Walking further down discovered milk being refrigerated at the back of the market, he considered briefly the choices between plain, Strawberry and Chocolate, before grabbing the plain one and two more. Dave was practically burning through the milk in the fridge, not just through breakfast, Bro sometimes found him chugging the bottle straight from the neck in the wee hours of the night. It happened more often than not and Bro reminded himself to get Dave addicted to something less expensive than milk one day. Like Apple Juice or something. Yeah, AJ was actually sounding like a pretty good idea. He tossed the chilled AJ into the basket and it clinked gently against the other glass bottles softly. Bro stayed in the snack section for a bit, wondering whether or not he should get the gummy worms, purely for the ironic purposes. The gummy worms were packed next to the cereals. He weighed the basket mentally, he would get some carrots probably, and then he could get the hell out of the damn place. The fluorescent lights were feeling a bit too bright for Bro’s taste and people were beginning to trickle in. He quickly walked to the aisle with the orange goodness, it was good, he’d read, to leave healthy little snacks on the table for growing young men, it had said, for example, carrot sticks, apples, raisins, etc., etc, the blogger was some guy called Pipes. Whatever it was supposed to mean.

Just grab the darn carrots already.

Fine, okay.

Bro grabbed the damn carrots grudgingly.

The voice in his head shut up.

The man behind the counter was taking a ridiculously long time to check out his items, at least that’s what it seemed like, and the cashier had found something wrong with all the bar codes on the items Bro had gotten. He kept glancing up and apologizing, smiling a little before feverishly working at the register. After what seemed hours of intense typing, the last of his items were bagged and safely tucked in Bro’s arms, thank god. He practically skipped out of the store.

Outside, with less people milling around, Bro felt a presence behind him. It was dark and seethed danger. Bro kept his pace slow and measured, it was broad daylight, whoever, or whatever it was, probably wouldn’t make a move. A side glance to a glass building revealed his stalker, a very well dressed young man, black trench coat, large brimmed black fedora hat and walking with a purpose. He seemed to be balancing something in his hand and resting it on his shoulder, the way he was holding it was like a bat. But what disturbed Bro was that he couldn’t see it. What the fuck? Whoever the guy was, he was certainly carrying something. He shouldn’t go home. Bro calmly walked past the apartment block, not breaking a stride. If this turned out to be bad, things were going to get ugly. One, Bro had groceries. Two, he was unarmed. Three, Dave was waiting for him, and it’d been well over an hour. Dave was probably going to worry.

Bro decided to brave his discomfort with crowds for the sake of losing the guy. The morning crowd was present in the city, Bro took a deep breath before stepping in, mingling, checking every once in a while if the guy was following…and Jesus fuck he was. In a quick flash step, he put a meter more between himself and trench coat. He checked, the guy was still following him. Risking another couple of flash steps and scaring the wits out of a young lady, he could safely say that he lost the guy. He ducked into an alley and peeked out, seeing the guy looking around, rage clear on his face. Better get home. Bro turned down the alley, jogging home.

* * *

“Yeah, I found the bird.” Spades Slick said into the phone, holding up the second feather that week that had fallen from the man’s hat, watching the ‘bird’ jog into the apartment building. “Yeah?”Droog sounded skeptical. “Yeah.” Slick memorized the door number before walking away.

* * *

Turns out that Dave loved apple juice. The kid was drinking every last drop after the first tentative sip of the drink. Bro drank the milk. For now it seemed his wallet was saved. Dave didn’t seem to catch onto the irony of the gummy worms as he happily sat on the couch chewing on the little treat while watching TV. Bro took a nap, deciding it was best not to tell Dave about the morning’s incident, Dave had been asleep anyways when he came back, so it was no point to worrying the kid. Besides, why exactly was he telling a six year old about being stalked? He didn’t want his little brother to grow up with fear of strangers, caution maybe, but not fear. He hoped that he lost the guy for good.

* * *

It was the dead of the night and the moon was high over the city, but it was barely seen through the thick haze hovering over the tips of the buildings scraping the sky. A door opened, but no light spilled out onto the street, it was all dark, and just faintly, four figures piled out onto the street, the last one out closing the door behind them. It was a strange sight to behold on the almost moonless night, a small, stout figure, a large burly man, a tall, menacing person and an average silhouette, all wearing hats and holding a variety of weapons just barely outlined by the waning light. And each of them had a pair of glowing white eyes. They didn’t speak; there was no need to as Slick lead them through the dark alleyways, avoiding the light entirely. A cat watched them from the darkness, eyes glowing and huge in the darkness. It hissed at Deuce and swatted his little hand when he tried to approach it. The man retreated, hurt, and the cat approached them, growling and hissing. Slick scowled and shot the ground close to the cat, missing it barely and it darted away, yowling. Spade shot a few more silenced shots in the cat’s general direction of escape for the heck of it and they moved on, following Spades lead. He took a hard left when the light creeped into the alleyway from the right, pulling his hat low over his eyes. Hearts looked at the lighted alleyway, watching for any prying eyes, there was no one but the flickering lamp. He turned around and followed the rest of the troupe down the darker path silently. They approached the well lit apartment building silently, Droog quietly pushed up the brim of his hat, regarding the apartment building silently with his white eyes. The rest of the group copied him and followed Slick’s pointed finger towards a seemingly normal door. There was a small nod of agreement. The plan was simple: bust in and retrieve the bird then contact headquarters. Done. It was Slick’s plan. So nobody said anything. As one, they detached from the shadows and stepped into the light, becoming more humanoid and their weapons vanished under the light, but the shadows remained. The climbed the stairs silently, their footsteps hardly making a sound against the metal. On the fourth floor, they stepped off at the platform and walked down the hall, Deuce was happily counting the doors on the way quietly, lightly tapping his (Bull Penis) Cane against the doormats, one, two, three…ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen! They halted in front of the door and stared at Spade as he floundered with his weapons, trying to decide whether he wanted his gun out or his cast iron horse hitcher out.

Fuck this shit. Slick knocked on the door with the butt of the gun.

* * *

Bro snapped awake. Fuck, what time was it? The digital clock read the numbers glaringly at him- one o’clock, what kind of person knocked on your door in the middle of the night? He didn’t check through the little hole to see who it was. That was his first mistake. He undid the chain on the door. His second mistake. He opened the door. Third mistake. “Whaddya want?” He asked, opening the door and yawning. It wasn’t the friendly neighbor, or the landlord. He was met with glowing white eyes and a familiar snarl. Oh shit. Bro was met with the guy who’d been stalking him this morning. He hardly thought before he was slamming the door shut, only to find it stopped with a soft hiss of pain from the other man as he stuck his shoe in between the door. Bro glanced up and his heart skipped a beat, there was another one behind the one currently holding the door open, he was tall and brooding, Bro focused on trying to tug the door closed. Just as he was about to kick the man’s foot out the door and close it, huge fingers closed around the side of the door and slowly began pulling the door open. Bro struggled to keep the door closed, but found it slipping from his grasp and the gap was getting wider. He swore and released the door, determining it a hopeless case and the door swung open abruptly. There was a slight grunt as whoever had been prying it open was flung back from the recoil. Bro grabbed his sword and prepared to fight the strangest bunch of people who walked inside his house menacingly. There were four of them, and all professional from the way they observed the room quietly and Bro thought they were a rather odd bunch, the one who appeared to be the leader had a permanent scowl on his face and was advancing forwards, the rest were standing around, watching him with glowing white eyes. The tallest one regarded him carefully, “He isn’t the one were looking for Slick.” The one named Slick stopped his advance towards Bro and seemed to see him for the first time. “Ah,” he said, pausing, “Fuck.”

Leave, kill me, but don’t find Dave, Bro was silently begging whichever God which might be looking down on the situation. But apparently the God which was looking down was like “Fuck your life.” With two middle fingers up in his direction to boot.

The taller one seemed to be the smarter one, he was looking around, and please not down, fuck he looked down, Bro saw his eyes widening at the realization. Dave’s little shoes were right there. Bro was moving forwards in a second, swinging his katana deftly towards the other man’s neck. Slick snarled and intercepted him with something that made sparks fly. He leapt back and attacked again, but this time there were the three biggest ones there fighting him back with weapons he couldn’t see. Bro would sometimes catch the flash of something blunt in the light, but he didn’t have time to think about it. Flashes of metal and clashes filled the room, they were deathly silent except for the soft utterance of grunts and growls. Bro was spinning and flash stepping this way and that, preventing their advancement further into the house. He brought the tall one down with a slash across the leg, deep probably, and he went down with a hiss of pain, dropping whatever he was holding onto the ground, a long pole of some sort. Slick glanced back, and it was all Bro needed to slash him across the face with a swift down stroke. The man half howled, clutching his face. But he was still standing, more angered than before.

Dave’s door creaked open and a pair of curious red eyes peeked out from the dark. No. Bro shut the door with his foot, ignoring the cry from the other side. It was for his own good. The little act of heroism nearly cost Bro his head as a giant set of teeth came down over his head. He brought up his sword and battled briefly against the biggest set of teeth he’d ever seen in his life, Slick was coming at him again, swinging whatever he had in his hand at him, some sort of club. No time like the present. Bro slid the blade against flesh and heard the scream of pain and flash of bright read blood gush out from the wound. I hope your tongue got cut out asshole. Sparks and flecks of blood flew as he clashed with Slick again. Damn, the tall one was getting up again, unsteadily, but he was getting up and he was reaching into his vest to pull out-oh shit. He’d seen plenty of movies to know exactly what the man was holding in his hand even though he couldn’t see it. A gun.

Bro kicked Slick backwards into the couch and the man flew backwards with a slight, "Oof!" flipped over it with a harsh thud. In a flash he was in front of the taller man, lashing out with his katana, there was a spark as it clashed with something metal and a spray of blood as he cut the man’s hand in the process. The man cried out and recoiled, clutching his hand to his chest. The object flew and clattered onto the floor hopefully somewhere far away. There was a brief moment where Bro considered taking the man’s head, but he dismissed it immediately, he wasn’t a cold blooded murdered like these people, he was better than that. But he thought twice about it when he heard Dave scream.

He tried to wrench the door open, but it was locked. Dave screamed again. “Bro!” The fourth one. It’d take too long to pick the lock, so Bro went with force, slamming his shoulder against the door and thanked God that the apartment was shitty and breaking down, the door exploded on the first shove and he was tumbling in. The smaller man was obviously in the act of charging at Dave who was at the far corner of the room near the window. The man made a sound a cross between a grunt of surprise and “Urk!” before Bro charged him and bowled him over, falling into a short fist fight that Bro cheated in by using his foot. The man was tiny. His head snapped backwards and he went down and Bro was breathing heavily, Dave. Where was Dave? He located the shuddering form of his brother standing shocked against the wall. Dave looked more frightened than Bro had ever seen him in his life, eyes widened in fear and pupils practically contracted to a tiny prick of darkness. “Dave…” he said, taking a step towards him, and Dave cringed and pressed himself against the wall, shaking violently, wings curling around him and claws scrabbling against the wall. Dave was scared of him. Bro looked down, his sword was covered with blood and probably his face too, he had a fair share of bruises and split skin on his arms from the blunt weapons the trio behind him had used. He probably looked terrifying.

“They’re still alive,” Bro blurted out, Dave shouldn’t be looking at him like that, Dave should never look like that, he took a step closer, dropping his katana. It fell to the ground with a light clatter. Dave’s eyes flickered downwards before returning back to his face. “Bro? What’s happening?” Bro collapsed and gave Dave a crushing hug, released him quickly, “We need to get out of here Dave, they’re bad people, and I’m not going to let them take you, not ever.” There was a crunch of wood and Bro whirled around, grabbing his katana and facing the intruder, seeing Slick and the tall man standing at the doorframe pointing things at him. He should’ve thought that both men had firearms. Dave gasped and both glowing eyes locked onto his little brother, Bro shielded Dave with his body. “Dave fly away.” Bro said under his breath, nudging Dave with his leg. Dave gripped his pants leg and shook his head fiercely, staring up at him with frightened red eyes. Dave, right now is not the time to be stubborn. “Go. I’ll follow.” Dave looked at him, trying to confirm his lie, but he kept his eyes glued forwards at the two men standing at the door, too afraid to shoot while Dave was there. Good. As soon as Dave was gone, Bro would have to be fast. The room seemed longer than before. He nudged Dave again towards the window and Dave hesitantly let go of his pants leg and edged towards the window, glancing back at Bro and the window. The two men tensed and took a step forwards. Bro readied himself, for the pain and for the run. He wouldn’t get out of this unscathed.

Dave climbed up to the windowsill. The man called Slick swore and his thumb quickly clicked back the safety and switched the bullet chamber in one fluid movement. “No!” Bro said it louder than he meant to and he tried to protect Dave, but it was too late. Dave jerked and went limp. “No! No! NO! DAVE!” Bro knelt and rolled Dave over, checking him for a pulse, there was one, thank god, it must’ve been a tranquilizer dart, but they shot Dave for fuck’s sake. He gave Dave one last squeeze before standing protectively over his little brother and swinging his katana in a wide arc, successfully warding the two men back. “Don’t touch him! Get out!” He snarled, glaring at them, willing to chase them out, kill them if he needed to, but unwilling to leave Dave alone. “Bro?” Fuck, Dave. He turned, softening his gaze; Dave was alright, drowsily reaching his hand up to him, “Dave! Don’t worry, I won’t let them get you…” there was a crunch and he whirled around again, snarling, “Stay away!” They split, trying to get to him from both sides, why were they still hesitating to shoot? Dave was already down…they could not possibly be thinking of negotiating things after this. “Don’t you dare come any closer!” he threatened, swinging his sword from one figure to the other, “One finger on him and I swear…” he let it hang but they didn’t falter, they came here to do their job, and they were going to finish it.

Bro’s leg was hurting, blood seeping out of the several or so holes in it, but he couldn’t concentrate on that right now. Bro’s entire body was sore, but he couldn’t even think about that right now. All he could see and feel was his heart being torn to pieces as Dave was being carried away. He was fighting, clawing the ground, not even feeling the gun being pressed to the back of his neck. “DAVE! DAVE!” He was crying but he was numb, there were fingers digging into his spine, arms, legs, but he was still trying to free himself. He was shouting, screaming at the top of his lungs. “NO! NO! DON’T TOUCH HIM! YOU MONSTERS! LET GO OF HIM! DAVE! DAVE!” Dave was getting further away, it was almost as if time was being stopped, every detail of his hair, his red eyes half open. Dave was crying too. Trying to reach out his little clawed hand. “LET ME GO YOU ASSHOLES! LET! ME! GO!” He lashed out, trying to drag himself out of the three men holding him down roughly. The smaller man turned the corner, taking Dave with him. “NO!”

“DAVE! Dave…”Dave was gone. Gone. Gone. GONE. Gone…

They released him. He could still get to Dave. Bro was up in an instant, hardly feeling the pain in his leg. Dave. The man Slick was in front of him again. MOVE. There was a scream. Bro could hardly see straight. Dave. There was a click. Dave. He took another painful step forward-

Smoke rose out of the guns barrel, drifting out like a lonely wisp. Slick panted, holding the gun out in front him, his anger slowly subsiding. Droog’s eyes were widened in shock and Boxcars looked away, staring out the window. “You didn’t have to-“

“Shut. Up.” Spades let his arm drop, still scowling. He knelt down and picked up his left arm from where it lay on the floor, bleeding at the shoulder. He stalked out of the room, leaving the other two men standing in the room with a body reaching for a single feather on the ground.

**Author's Note:**

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